


Where her heart leads

by aboxofbees



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Drunkenness, F/F, In-line With Canon, Kind of angsty?, alcohol mention, don't worry it ends well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5515442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aboxofbees/pseuds/aboxofbees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of Act 2, after Isabela runs off after the relic. Follows Isabela as she deliberates what to do, and while Hawke is fighting the qunari.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where her heart leads

**Author's Note:**

> This is a DA secret santa gift fic to xscemesx, I hope you like it!

Isabela concealed herself behind crates stacked between two pillars. A few metres away, she saw Hawke pick up her note, and Isabela felt her heart break as she saw the pain radiate across her lover’s face as she read each line on the paper. But this is how it had to be. How it had always had to be. Isabela closed her eyes and attempted to steel herself against the heartbreak. She took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, Hawke was gone.

Cautiously, the pirate stepped out into the open and considered her options. She had to get as far away as possible from the qunari, and the best way to do that would be to return to the sea. Swiftly, sticking to the shadows, Isabela made her way to the Hanged Man. Varric would be with Hawke, and by the time anyone else knew what was going on and thought to get word to Hawke that she’d been seen there, she’d be long gone. Either way, all of the ship captains she had a hope in hell of convincing to allow her on board would be drinking their landed hours away in the Hanged Man, so it was a risk she had to take.

Isabela took a lengthy draft from the tankard sat in front of her. She let herself fall back in the chair, head lolling and gazing at the ceiling. She squinted.  
“Have there always been two cracks above this table?”  
“No darlin’.”  
“Ah.” Isabela sat herself properly upright with great effort. The ship captain sat opposite her swam in and out of focus. Isabela slumped over the table and sighed longingly.  
“If Hawke was here she would have thought that was hilarious. She’d be sitting there, laughing at me in that way she only does when she’s drunk, and I’d pull her into my lap, and she’d do that thing… Ugh, that thing…”  
Opposite her, the ship captain gawked openly.   
“Uhh… so d’you want on the ship or not?”  
Isabela’s head snapped up. “Why wouldn’t I?”  
“No worries darlin’, I didn’t mean anythin’ by it, it’s just… you been talkin’ ‘bout this girl o’ yours for hours.”  
“No I haven’t.” Isabela slurred indignantly.  
“I’m just sayin’ love, maybe sleep on it?”  
“M’kay…” Isabela’s agreement trailed off as her head fell onto her arms and her breathing became deep and regular.

Many hours later, Isabela awakened, clutching her head and breathing deeply to try and quell her nausea. The tavern was empty. In the far off background was the sound of fighting and general chaos, but she paid it no heed. Gently, she set her elbows on the table in front of her and cradled her head in her hands.  
“Uhhhhhhgggg.”   
The events of the previous day started to trickle back.

Isabela flailed wildly, groping around for what she prayed was still in her possession. With relief, she closed her fist around a bag, in which lay the Tome of Koslun.   
“Oh thank fuck.”  
She sank back against the chair, her breath huffing out in relieved laughter. As the adrenaline wore off, and the implications of having the relic caught up with her dazed mind, the smile slid off her face. Hawke.

That first night together, Hawke had asked her about feelings, and she had responded reflexively, warning the woman not to bring any of them into whatever it was that they had. But the feelings had been there long before that first night, hadn’t they?

No. Isabela internally berated herself for getting herself into this situation in the first place. She should have taken herself out of the city as soon as she realised what was at stake, as soon as she’d started to develop these feelings - she could have searched for the relic elsewhere, found somewhere else to hide from Castillon. 

This is how it had to be. Isabela had been betrayed before, and she’d sworn to herself she’d never let it happen again. She had to look out for herself like nobody else ever would. She was her own mistress and she did as she, and she alone, willed. But at what cost? What if what she willed was to be with Hawke; this woman who made her feel just as alive as being at the head of her own ship on the open seas ever had. Her heart broke every time she thought of what Hawke must think of her, the hurt she must be feeling; the betrayal. 

Tears gently fell down her cheeks, leaving behind trails Isabela hastily tried to wipe away; tried to erase all memory of her lover.   
“Fuck.”  
The word hovered in the air in front of her, almost taking on a form of its own, so desperate was the emotion behind it. Her stomach churned, twisting itself into knots she knew had nothing to do with her hangover, now long forgotten – paled in comparison to the turmoil she was now experiencing. 

And then everything halted. Isabela opened her eyes and scraped a hand through her mass of wavy hair. She did need to look out for herself, and the only way to look out for herself now was to follow her heart. And, Maker damn it all, her heart was held by Hawke.

She scrabbled up, suddenly hearing the screams and clash of swords in the distance. A cold sliver of fear stabbed at her heart, and grabbing the relic out of the bag at her feet, she ran for the door. Now she knew what had to be done.


End file.
